


You Don't Remember, I'll Never Forget

by starkind



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), DC Cinematic Universe, Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Crossover Pairings, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Iron Bat - Freeform, Light Angst, M/M, Out of Character, Post-Iron Man 3, Post-The Dark Knight, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-25
Packaged: 2018-09-24 11:43:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9723290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkind/pseuds/starkind
Summary: An accident takes away more than Bruce believed at first.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Very rough and unpolished, this dream I had wanted to be written down to turn into a little story.
> 
> Title taken from the song by Yngwie Malmsteen.

“Soo, bottom line: You think I'm callous. Go on, admit it. A little candor never killed nobody.”  
From his place on the huge designer sofa in Tony's private quarters at Stark Tower, Bruce glowered.  
“I never said callous. Narcissistic, yes, utterly so at times, but not callous.”

Unbeknownst to him, Tony narrowed his eyes. He stood facing the wet bar, fingers playing with the heavy crystal stopper of the decanter that held a fair amount of expensive whiskey. “If I'm such a giant clusterfuck, you'd be better off without me. Find someone who appreciates you more. Publicly, even.” The Gothamite rolled his eyes and put the large coffee table book on architecture back in its place.

“What is it with you? I stood by your side all these times, and I still do now.”  
Wayne's usually composed voice rose, just like his body did from the couch. Stark gave a snort.  
“And here I am, wondering why.”

A shake of a head. “It's baffling how you can be the most selfish, and at the same time the most self-sacrificing person on earth.” He tried to touch his lover by the shoulder, only to have Tony shrug his hand off and sidestep him, his posture rigid. “Stop exaggerating, it doesn't suit you.” Bruce withdrew his arm, patience wearing thin. “You seem hell-bent on picking a fight tonight. Guess I'll see myself out. Good night.”

After the door had clicked shut, the Californian billionaire wiped his face down with both palms. He knew going after Bruce was a lost cause, so Tony felt for his car keys. In the mood for fresh air, he got into the private elevator that took him right down into the vast garage. As he was just about to unlock his red R8 and go for a cruise around New York City, something made him change his mind and leave the garage on foot.

As he wandered along populated avenues and lesser frequented streets, his mind started wandering, too.

Lately, all of their quarrels seemed to revolve around one and the same topic. Bruce Wayne wanted to make tabula rasa on at least one facet of his life. He was willing to give away his playboy persona for good, in favor of announcing Tony Stark as his one and only chosen partner by his side. A sacrifice for their relationship he gladly would make, if only said partner saw things in the same light.

Even if Tony's feelings were mutual, something was holding him back; something unequivocally tied to his education. No one else but Howard Stark and, to an extent, even Obadiah Stane had drilled their moral, homophobic values into his genius mind for as long as Tony could recall.

Even if both so-called father figures were long gone, their beliefs which shunned same-sex love, let alone marriage, were harder to shake than he liked to admit to himself. Therefore, Bruce's and his engagement was hovering in the clandestine, hush-hush stages for the past twelve months.

Even if deep down, Tony hated himself for being such a coward.

Deep in thought, the assault on his person came too fast for him to notice, let alone avoid without armor. An unpopulated alley, a bunch of aggressors outnumbering him by far, and the last thing he remembered was how his wallet was being yanked from the pocket of his jacket as he was down on the ground.

A couple of kicks against his head and the world around Tony faded into black.

* * *

“He's out of the medically-induced coma.”  
Pepper Potts' tired and pale countenance got Bruce to jump to his feet.  
“How is he?”

The harsh neon light of the Cedar's Sinai cast shadows under her eyes. “His doctor is waiting to speak to us.” They had stayed at the large medical facility for the past three days after receiving the horrific news of Tony being mugged on the streets of New York. Some pedestrians had found his unconscious body in an alley sometime after he had been attacked, and immediately called an ambulance and the police.

A man in green scrubs and a white coat on top beckoned them over into a secluded office and showed them scans. “The swelling has receded, but there is no telling as to what the outcome will be at this point. At least there is a certain pattern in his EEG - a good sign of regular brain activity.”

“Can we see him?”  
The doctor nodded at Bruce's question.  
“He should wake within the next half an hour.”

* * *

His senses returned to him one by one; sight being the last. A foul taste was on his tongue, combined with a sharp medical smell in his nose, and the steady beeping of some sort of heart rate monitor in his ears. Tony began to toss, only to be stopped by a deep, male voice close to his side.

“Easy.”

A warm sensation clasped for his fingers, and it prompted Tony to flicker his eyes open, despite the pounding behind his temples. Terrified upon finding a stranger stroking his hand, a man no less, Tony gave a yelp. “Don't fucking touch me! Back off! What do you think I am? A fag?” The man took the verbalized homophobia with as much dignity as possible, removed his hand and simultaneously himself out of his proximity.

“Are you in pain? Should I call a doctor?”  
Two spiteful and frantic brown eyes darted in between him and the possible exits of the single bedroom.  
“You've got five seconds to scram this place before I call the cops.”

An undecipherable expression crossed the stranger's face, but he pressed his lips together, tilted his head, and turned to leave.

Outside, Bruce met up with Pepper who smiled at him until she caught his gloom.

“What happened?”

“He's awake.”

She sighed with relief and made a move to reach for his forearm.

“That's good news.”

Wayne stared down at her neatly manicured hands. When his eyes met hers again, there was thinly-veiled pain.

“He doesn't know who I am.”

Even if the redhead looked shocked, the doctor stepped up to them and gave a knowing nod. “It is called retrograde amnesia. It might be of the temporary kind, seeing the damage done to the hippocampal formation is fairly minimal, as shown on the CT scanner. He will eventually overcome this when other brain structures are well enough to take over the jobs of the malfunctioning regions.”

Taking in the dejected faces in front of him, the neurosurgeon tried for an optimistic smile.

“In other words, just give him time.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

Nothing made sense to Tony after his release from the hospital and his arrival at a ginormous building called Avengers Tower, formerly known as Stark Tower. At least, the design looked familiar, even if Tony demanded to know why they were not staying at Stark Mansion in Malibu. Those freezing New Yorker temperatures did nothing for his foul mood.

Pepper tried to explain everything to him in her best and most patient ways possible. Afterward, Tony understood even less. No, he did not remember anything past the events of Stark Expo; neither those so-called Avengers she told him about, nor the reason why he was without his ARC reactor all of a sudden. The thing he wondered about most, however, was why Pepper all but fled his embrace when he tried to kiss her.

She and he should be together like they had been after he had defeated Hammer and his drones. His brows furrowed when she told him she now was with another man, Happy of all people, and that was when he lost it. High up in the penthouse, Tony Stark screamed the foulest profanities at the both of them, unforgiving as to how his supposedly best friends could betray him behind his back like that.

After literally throwing them out, he went and attacked the nearby house bar with vigor, angry with everyone and the world.

Sufficiently drunk after two meager shots of bourbon, due to the remaining strong painkillers in his system, Tony stumbled into the workshop he discovered was below the penthouse. Before he passed out on the couch, he also managed to get into a huge argument with Rhodey over the phone, who tried to make him see reason. “You're not yourself at the moment, Tones. Stop biting all of our heads off – we're just trying to help.”

“What the fuck is stealing my woman for a kind of help, huh?”

“Tony, you and Pepper have...”

“... have a good thing going on, damn right!”

“And you guys have split two years ago.”

Silence, followed by the intake of several deep, shuddering breaths.

“Why is everyone lying, including you?”

“Tony, wait...”

A click, then the connection got cut.

* * *

Bruce Wayne had deemed it wise to stay in New York, at the Grand Hyatt Hotel just across the street. There, Pepper sought him out after Tony had calmed down enough to ask her, albeit via text, to continue her CEO job at Stark Industries. He had made a point in avoiding to see or speak to her at all costs ever since then, and his blossoming hermit mode became an issue Pepper needed to address.

“Bruce, it's getting worse. I fear he's back to drinking again.”

Wayne stood, his back towards her, looking at the striking design of Stark Tower that loomed tall and proud in the distance, gleaming in the hazy winter sun. His arms were crossed in front of his chest. “He doesn't want me around, Pepper.” She joined him, though keeping an appropriate distance, and followed his gaze. “He doesn't want any of us around, but he's going to kill himself like this.”

So Bruce Wayne cast aside all of his own hurt and went back.

A paranoid Tony had apparently changed all of the Tower's security codes, but thanks to Pepper and Jarvis, he was able to find his way in. Making use of his new set of codes, Bruce stood in the doorway of the spacious leisure deck on the 81st  floor some ten minutes later. He found his amnesic lover huddling in one of the large wing chairs by the huge panorama window front, bottle of bourbon cradled in his lap.

"May I come in?”  
  
Tony glowered at his intruder, but Bruce remained steadfast. From the looks of it, Tony had not bothered to shave since he got released from the hospital and his goatee was losing its trimmed edges. The bruises all over his face were starting to turn into various shades of blue and violet. His mouth then warped into an ugly sneer. “Y'already did, so whassa point in askin? Might jus' wanna introduce yourself first, pal.”

Tony's voice was flat and slurred. Bruce blinked twice. “My name is Bruce Wayne. I am... a friend of yours.” Something like malice flittered across Stark's drunken features. “Right now, you're nothin' but that homo dude from the hospital t'me.” Bruce's Adam's apple moved. “This has never bothered you before.” Amber-colored liquor sloshed in the bottle as Tony raised it to his lips and took a long swig.

“Even if, ya should know that was downright creepy what'cha did there, you're lucky I didn' press charges.”  
The other man's jaw worked as if he debated with himself. Eventually, Bruce averted his eyes and cast them on the floor.  
“I apologize for making you uncomfortable. That has not been my intention.”

Tony waved a listless, lackadaisical hand about. “Yea, yea, yea - whatever. Jus' don' do it again.” He continued to drink, fixating his guest with a sullen look, and Bruce had no idea how to initiate another conversation. Bottle balancing on one thigh, Tony then nodded to himself after a few moments, fingers drumming onto the armrest, and cocked his head.

“I jus don' get it. I mean, like, how can it be a dude like you enjoys takin' it up the ass? Tell me that. 'm sure you can get all the pussy in the world, and still you decide t'be a fag. Sheesh. Whatta waste.” Ignoring the way Tony kept on insulting him in the worst way possible, Bruce tried for another strategy. “Do you remember something about your armored suits?” He walked in closer but was not offered a seat. Tony grunted.

“Pshh. Course. I remember all o'that. Cause that,” He brandished the bottle around, spilling some alcohol on the floor. “Is my fuckin legacy. I'm Iron Man.” Bruce decided to press on, to try and pinpoint the lost timeframe as good as possible. “Do you remember the surgery you had that removed the reactor in your chest?” Tony stared down at his chest before he rubbed a hand over the spot in question.

It had healed well, Bruce knew firsthand, even if a small, palpable indentation had stayed, together with a slight bit of pale scar tissue. When Stark did not seem to have an answer, Wayne was the one providing it. “It was seven months ago. You wanted to have it removed after decoding certain parts of Extremis, and-” Bottle raised one more time, Tony swallowed the rest of the bourbon and proceeded to stand up.

“Okay now, fella, this shit's gettin' real serious. Who told you 'bout that, huh? That's fuckin' intel.” He wobbled on the spot, making Bruce itch to reach out and steady him. Nevertheless, he stayed where he was, palms facing the other man who stood a couple of feet away, looking belligerent. “I have been there, Tony.” Without warning, Stark pulled his arm back and hurled the empty bottle at him with all his might.  
  
Reflexes way above-average, Bruce dodged it with ease. The shattering of glass all over the marble tiled floors neither made him flinch nor take his eyes off the furious man in front. Tony's face was contorted with rage, helplessness, and frustration; all of it multiplied by the hard liquor cruising within his bloodstream.  
  
“THEN WHY THE FUCK DON'T I REMEMBER YOU?”  
Bruce's chest heaved a very heavy sigh.  
“I don't know.”  
  
Turning around, Tony stumbled over to the chrome banister that surrounded the panorama front.  
“Get out. Now.”  
Wayne watched how he stood, torso heaving and head hanging low, and put his arms akimbo.  
  
“I will, on one condition. Stop drinking yourself to death. That won't bring your memories back.”  
The look Stark cast him over his shoulder spoke of something finite.  
“Get. Out. And don't come back here.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

Days came and went. Bruce kept his distance and Tony kept on drinking. One night, when the pain from his cracked ribs had been dulled by sufficient alcohol, Tony itched to get in the suit. Jarvis, who had been put into silent stealth mode ever since his return, tried to stop his creator with every possible loophole he could find until Stark simply overrode his AI system and headed out.

Flying on manual was challenging, but flying on manual and being more than tipsy was a recipe for disaster. More of a menace than a savior, Iron Man blew up half of a construction site close to New Jersey by accident, under the false impression of a burglary taking place. It was just his luck the site was unpopulated late at night, and that an unknown company dressed in black interfered with his one-man demolition act.

“Stand down.”

Iron Man did not comply with the growled command. Instead, the Batman found himself eye to eye with a repulsor-clad palm. “I don't want to fight you.” At the deadly calm answer, the repulsor beam powered up and increased its glow. “Then get the fuck outta my face, you freak.” The blast hit the scaffolding, sending sparks flying through the dark.

Tony was pissed to learn the creature had somersaulted out of range in a nimble move and was now cowering high up the massive steel staging. “Don't make me do this.” The dark rasp only made Tony grit his teeth behind his faceplate. “Try me.”

They clashed hard mere seconds later.

Pouring all of his drunken wrath and frustration into the fight, Tony gave the creature that tried to rein him in the hardest time he could. He managed to catch him once, square in the chest, with a packed punch full of charged neutron particles, eliciting the faintest pain-filled grunt. Still, the masked stranger managed to stay on his feet, fast and cunning, despite his less than technical armor.  
  
A device appeared in one of his gloved hands, looking like some sort of small, sleek rifle. It crackled with a bright light and a high-pitched whine. Before Tony knew what was going on, his suit got exposed to a large dose of EMP that made his system go haywire in an instant. Without Jarvis online and able to fix it, Iron Man was reduced to a deadweight, and the dark creature moved in for close combat.  
  
Soon, they were tumbling out of the sky, locked in a ferocious deadlock neither was about to give up. Unable to ignite the ion thrusters of his boots to avoid their most likely fatal impact, Tony made a final decision. He reinforced his grip on the creature's torso, feeling the carbon plated material crack under pressure. Two pitch-black rimmed eyes blazed up at him upon realizing his lethal intentions. Tony just snarled.  
  
“See you in hell, fucker!”

Seconds before their bodies hit the ground to splatter into pieces, a grapple-hook appeared at the masked stranger's side out of nowhere. The world turned upside down, and Tony found himself hurled skywards again, right back into the gaping construction site. The HUD started to reboot during their struggle, but before Iron Man could get the target lock ready, momentum propelled him backward into several tall concrete pillars.

Tony's head swam as he was seeing stars, causing him to pass out even before the suit had stopped plowing through metal, rubble, and debris.

* * *

Once he woke, Tony opened his eyes and found himself staring up at the outline of a huge geological formation. A glimpse down his body revealed he was out of the suit; moreover tied to a gurney. “Hello?” The pounding behind his temples made him groan out. “Ouch, fuck. Anyone?” Nothing except for the constant drip drip drip of water and far away sounds of a generator humming somewhere into the dark.

“How are you feeling?”  
  
The low, raspy voice from out of nowhere startled him. Tony whipped his head around and found himself instantly regretting it. Through the maze of colorful flashes before his eyes, he made out fragments of a tall, dark silhouette which loitered in the shadows behind him. “Been better. What the hell happened?” He tried to raise a wrist for emphasis, and that was when the figure moved closer with careful, tender steps.  
  
“Things got out of control. I had to take precautions.”  
Tony's eyes finally adjusted to their normal vision, and he blinked up at the masked crusader.  
“W-why are you wearing the suit?”

That seemed to catch the Batman by surprise. His hands stopped in mid-air, about to go for the restraints on Tony's ankles. Stark had to crane his neck at an awkward angle to be able to look at him but kept on trying. “... Bruce?” At that, the Dark Knight froze in his tracks. “What... did you just say?” The growl was faltering as a good portion of its alter ego's baritone crept into the quiet question.

Tony dropped his head back onto the cold metal gurney with a grunt. “Listen, I dunno what happened, other than that I have a mean headache that feels like it's transforming into some kind of hangover, so – untie me. C'mon, babe.” When Bruce Wayne pulled off the cowl, his hands shook ever so slightly. The jet-black paint around his eyes was smeared, and there was a bruise forming on his left cheekbone.  
  
As soon as he had undone the straps around Tony's wrists, Bruce put a hand on his chest and stopped his movements. “Stay put, I want to run some more tests.” Before he could head off towards the supercomputer in the corner, Tony's hand was on his wrist, soulful brown eyes finding his. “Hey. Kiss me first?” He did get his wish granted before he drifted off again, giving in to a bone-numbing exhaustion.

Even in his spaced-out dreams, Tony kept on wondering why Bruce had flinched upon leaning in, and why his lips had tasted of blood and saline.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more teeny tiny chapter to give the boys some much-needed closure


	4. Chapter 4

Back in New York, watching the surveillance videos of the past few days left Tony with nothing but sheer disgust.

Disgust at the person that was supposed to be him, hurting the ones he loved and cared for the most. Still, he forced himself to watch - to witness and to try and comprehend just how much damage he had done. His apologies to Pepper and Happy were awkward, but thankfully no tearjerkers. Rhodey pretended to be immune to the oozing Stark apology charm, for which Tony was glad. They reconnected over burgers and beer.

There was, however, one person whom apologizing to was the hardest Tony had ever tried to do.

Bruce had become a lot more distant after the whole incident, despite trying not to let it show. Of course Tony noticed; be that by his frequent absences in Manhattan, or in the even more succinct ways he texted or talked on the phone. When confronted with the situation one evening, Wayne kept on deflecting until Tony interrupted him with a suffering sigh.

“Listen, I know I've got a lot to make up for, but I need-... Just tell me we're not through.”

Silence over the line. “We're not. None of this was your fault.” _'That huge purple shiner on your face and those four bruised ribs of yours beg to differ'_ Tony thought with infinite sorrow and bitterness. Out loud he said something else. "I've called The Dunes in the Hamptons. An intensive outpatient program sounds... good. I think.” Silence once again. Then Bruce cleared his throat in that quiet, gentle way of his.  
  
“Yes, it does. An hour by plane?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
Their conversations had never been that strained. Tony inhaled, only to have Bruce cut in.  
“I'll come along the first time if you want me to.”  
And just like that, the dark curtain of doubt around Tony's heart and soul began to lift ever so slightly.

“I- I'd love that.”

* * *

_~Learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow~_

The quote from Albert Einstein greeted them upon their first entry into the luxury rehab facility in the East Hamptons. It prompted Tony to reach down and grope for Bruce's hand; a hand that had voluntarily let go of his before they could encounter any clinical directors, staff members, or wandering inpatients. Wayne threw him a curious, sideways glance but said nothing.  
  
After a while, his thumb began to caress Tony's cold fingers in steady, silent reassurance.

The administration process, followed by an initial evaluation of Tony's current condition, was easy and over rather quick. He was given an address to the facility's outpatient offices near the easternmost tip of Long Island, along with the choice of various treatment methods. No sooner than he and Bruce sat back on the Stark Industries' Cessna Citation X, heading for New York, Tony began to fidget in his seat.  
  
“So, umm..” His little cough prompted Bruce to stop looking out of the window and over at him. “Are you going to spend my last day in freedom with me or should I drop you off in Gotham?” Tony could count the times they had spent the night together since his amnesia stunt on one hand. On top of it, Wayne's ailing physical condition had given enough well-founded excuses to not indulge in any close contact whatsoever.  
  
By now, however, Tony could not help but feel his lover was deliberately avoiding him.  
  
While he waited for an answer with bated breath, Bruce's set of lips curled in their usual fashion, whenever he and that ingenious mind of his were in utter disagreement over things to be said aloud. Sometimes, it fascinated Tony just how complex a man Bruce Wayne actually was. Said complex man then seemed to have come to a decision, hazel eyes gazing up to meet the taut countenance across from him.

“I can stay the night.”  
  
Victorious, Tony slid out of his seat to occupy the one next to him. Wayne let him intertwine their fingers again, though not without a mild look of reproach. “You know it is an outpatient program, though.” Smirking to himself, Tony said nothing and busied himself running a finger over the back of Bruce's hand, tracing each knuckle, each scarred cut, and each vein he encountered with revered diligence.

~~~

The next morning, Tony woke all alone in his king-size bed. After a languid stretch that brought up some deliciously sore spots all over his still very much naked body, he reached for the glass of water on his nightstand. A single red rose with a thin, gold ribbon around laid aside, as well as a small white, nondescript card.

_'Remember that I love you'_

_B._

Tony stared long and hard at the elegant, yet simple handwriting. His previous carnal contentment culminated in a bout of emotion that had him sobbing into his pillow for a good five minutes. Once he was over his embarrassing crying fit, Tony went to take a shower, shaved and brushed his teeth. Before he went to tackle the world and all of its trials and tribulations with his chin held high, he did the first thing that came to his mind.

He called the New York Times.

* * *

 _Billions In Love - Tony Stark marries Bruce Wayne. The surprise wedding of the year. More on page 6._  
  
“I came to realize life is too short to hide who you are.”  
  
Tony Stark stood in a circle of warm light and gave the female interviewer to his left a winsome smile. Around them, a small crew of photographers was bustling about, putting the finishing touches to a portable photo studio which had been set up in the middle of the vast penthouse at Stark Tower. On the sidelines, Pepper Potts and Happy Hogan stood and kept an eye on the two suave male models.   
  
As the shutters of the NY Times clicked into frenzy Bruce glanced at his newlywed husband. Dressed in matching black Kitson tuxedos, with complementary wedding rings and their cheeks flushed from both excitement and the studio lights, Wayne then gave an affirming nod and a debonair smile. “I agree.” When the young female reporter was busy taking notes on her tablet, Bruce leaned in to whisper in Tony's ear.  
  
“To a certain extent.”

**  
THE END**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rehab facility mentioned in this one (found via Google):  
> https://theduneseasthampton.com/


End file.
